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Things settled down, thanks to my saint of a mother.

How she managed with a spoiled brat and an orphan child from another country, I’ll never know.

But she did.

She took him to a specialist in the Houston Medical Center to learn more about his gender identity conflict.

After several tests, the doctor determined that Piers had the genetic make-up of both male and female, with a definite leaning toward the female side.

That surprised no one and explained his looks and mannerisms.

The specialist had been recommended by our family doctor as the best in his field, an expert in research and treatment for gender dysfunction.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything at that time for Piers but prescribe suitable hormones and counseling.

He suggested monitoring and periodic testing until Piers got closer to puberty, and then he would recommend a surgeon who specialized in gender reassignment.

In Piers’s case, determining the problem early was a plus.

He shouldn’t have any problems transitioning to the female gender both physically and mentally.

In the meantime, he should live as a girl, including a name change.

Piers became Piers.

The name suited him/her just fine.

Within a few months even I had no trouble referring to him as her.

It was still hard calling her my sister, though.

But, in time, I accepted her.

She was a shy girl.  I wasn’t.

We were both curious as all children are and it led to some mutual exploration – some show-and-touch on the sly.

Of course I was the one who instigated it.

Mother was either totally unaware or approved of what we were doing since it led to bonding and most of all – to peace in the household.

We’d both told Mummy that we were having bad dreams and wanted to sleep together.

She said we could try it for a while.

With all the giggling and hushed conversations going on, now that I think about it, I’m sure she knew.

She had to have known!

 

The first time we played was quite an adventure!

We were dressed for bed in cute little nylon baby doll gowns and matching bloomers.

They were identical, except for color.

Mother kissed us both goodnight and closed the door.

We looked at one another and gave a suppressed giggle,

listening to her footsteps as she walked to her room.

It was agreed that I could look at her and she could look at me.

We were quiet for a moment and then started giggling uncontrollably.

We went to sleep happy.

I learned years later that Rose was Mom’s spy!

Mother started letting us bathe together.

We were, after all, sisters.

As time passed and without realizing it, I was learning some valuable lessons in life.

I became aware of my Mother’s selfless love and patience with me.

Of course, it had been there all along.

I just hadn’t noticed it.

I also observed how she loved and cared for Patrica; encouraging her, comforting her, always positive and supportive – being there for her during the times she was depressed.

The wait to become a “real girl” wasn’t easy for her.

Mom loved her too, and I lost nothing as a result. It all led to tolerance; truly a blessing for me.

I’d had practically none before Mother brought that beautiful little boy from France home.

Mom eventually moved Patrica to the room next to mine.

It had an adjoining door, which suited us both.

There was a lock on both sides that we never used, but we always knocked before entering when it was closed.

We were fifteen when the special team of doctors, surgeons and psychologists declared Patrica ready for the surgery, the final step that would change her physically to a female.

The best surgeon available for gender reassignment, aided by his expert staff, would construct her.

In Patrica’s mind, this would make her a “real girl.”

Of course, my mother and I already accepted her as a “real” girl.

After the operation, the doctor came to the waiting room with a smile on his face and Said, “Everything went just fine, no surprises or problems.”

  It was a landmark for her.

She was totally healed and anatomically female.

Check-ups would be yearly from then on.

 Mom gave a small dinner party for her and invited family members and a few close friends to celebrate the occasion.

There were twenty-five guests.

She wore a beautiful full-skirted sky blue silk dress and a matching petticoat.

I’d also seen her satin garter belt, hose, and cute lace panties when she popped over to my room to borrow some perfume while we were dressing.

A pair of diamond drop earrings highlighted her jewelry.

She was radiant as Mother and I walked arm in arm with her down the stairs to join the waiting guests.

The party was a great success as she mingled and danced with cousins, uncles, and a few close family friends.

She was the prettiest girl at the party and obviously, the happiest!

That night, Andrea knocked softly on our adjoining door and came in.

She was wearing a cute little pink gown that didn’t quite cover her butt and matching panties.

She climbed into my bed still excited, chattering away about her good check-up and the dinner party Mom had given for her.

Finally, she was quiet.

It was time.

We looked into each other’s eyes and I gave her a long, loving kiss.

We awoke the next morning to the sounds of the house coming alive and the yardman starting the lawnmower.

We could hear Mother saying something to one of the house staff.

  This was a new day and we both felt great.

Andrea wiggled and tickled me saying, “Charlotte, I have a wonderful idea.

Let’s go shopping together today.”

“Shopping for what?” I asked.”  “Oh this and that,” she answered.

I was still too sleepy for a giggle but I did smile

“Sounds good to me,” I said.  “I have a new dress that I want to wear and you haven’t worn that cute green dress Mom bought you yet.

We’ll shop downtown, have lunch at Pino’s, and then take in a movie.”

“Oh Charlotte, we should wear pantsuits today.

Can’t you hear the wind blowing, and it’ll be even worse downtown?

Our arms will be full of packages and the wind could blow our dresses up and people would see us.”

“Well, if they did they’d see our best side sweetie,” I said.

That brought about a little gasp from her and then a laugh from both of us.

Life was beautiful.